


A Roommate With No Regrets

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's rare, but apparently possible, for an English literature student to be left speechless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Roommate With No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO THERE. Apologies for this bad A/N because I have never written one before but HERE I AM writing an A/N. I don't know why I'm typing in capitals.  
> Below is my AU Ereri oneshot, which contains a small amount smut but that's in the summary somewhere and the reason I'm writing this A/N is simply to dedicate the aforementioned oneshot to Humera. God knows what her username on here is, I forget, but I promised her I'd write this A/N for her, so there we go.  
> Hi Humera.  
> Anyway, I hope whoever reads this enjoys my oneshot. And that's it from this awkward fanfiction writer.

To: Eren Jaeger  
From: Hanji Zoe  
Subject: RE: Roommate Needed  
  
Hey Eren!  
I'm Hanji and I saw your ad. Have you ever considered how dangerous it is to put your email address on the Internet like that? You must be fearless! Or an idiot. Anyway, you seem pretty desperate for a roommate, which is understandable considering it's so expensive to live alone these days. But have no fear, Hanji is here! Well, not Hanji, actually. Personally, I don't want to be your roommate. No offence or anything, you seem like a pretty cool guy.  
Actually, I'm emailing you on behalf of my best friend Levi. I tried to get him to email you himself, but he's busy (well, that's what he told me) so here I am, emailing you. He's always busy, so you won't see him that much anyway. Isn't that great? It's like living on your own with half the costs! I'm babbling. Stop babbling, Hanji.  
So. Levi. He's a great guy, really, if a bit moody at times. He speaks French. That's a useless piece of information but it's pretty cool. Like I said, he hardly ever comes out of his room, so he won't bother you. And when you do see him, you won't actually see him, because he's so short. And he cleans. And he scares robbers away. And he won't use much of your shampoo, but he probably will use most of all your other cleaning products so you should stock up, or just let him do all the cleaning (I recommend the latter).  
I know he sounds like a totally great guy and I/he/we can't wait to hear back from you.  
Lots and lots of love, Hanji x  
P.S: Levi doesn't like mess, small talk, people going into his room, anecdotes about people's life stories, happiness, cute things, jokes about his height, jokes about his cleaning habits, jokes in general (unless he makes them, and in which cause, you should laugh), or bright colours.  
P.P.S: Don't mention the army, or war.  
  
Hanji Zoe's email was the only email I actually received in response to my advertisement.  
Hanji was right; I was desperate. Sina University's fees weren't exactly cheap, and there was no way in hell I was going to live with Jean Kirstein, the cocky asshole. My adopted sister Mikasa Ackerman and my best friend Armin Arlert had managed to get scholarships for Rose University, and while I was happy for them, I couldn't help but be a tiny bit jealous. I was in Stohess, living in a tiny yet rather expensive apartment, especially by the standards of an eighteen-year-old that didn't have a job, and it was only across the street from Jean and his roommate Marco Bodt. Mikasa and Armin were in Trost, where accommodation was affordable and education was excellent.  
That was what I got from spending my comprehensive school years in anger management instead of lessons, I suppose.   
I had to look on the bright side. I'd actually managed to get into Sina, and Jean and I were doing degrees that couldn't be more different, considering he'd somehow got in for sport science. So, I'd hardly even see the tosser, and I wouldn't get into any fights with him and get chucked out of university like I nearly did so many times in school.  
I tapped the table carelessly with my fingers, creating no particular rhythm, as I gazed at the screen of my laptop. Hanji's Post-Scriptum -- as an English student I felt quite intelligent by saying that -- was almost half as long as the actual email. Did I really want a roommate that sounded like a warning label, that I'd spend the rest of my university years tiptoeing around, like this Levi guy?  
Did I really have a choice?  
I started typing.  
  
To: Hanji Zoe  
From: Eren Jaeger  
Subject: RE: RE: Roommate Needed  
Hi there Hanji,  
Thanks for your reply! Your friend Levi seems like the perfect roommate and a brilliant person, and I can't wait to meet him. He can move in any time. In fact, the earlier, the better. Make sure he goes to the right apartment, though. The guy across the street probably wouldn't give him a warm welcome.  
Yours sincerely, Eren   
P.S: Noted x10.  
P.P.S: Also noted.  
  
It was only a matter of days and a couple of exchanged emails before a bright orange van pulled up outside my new apartment, boasting a combination of numbers and letters that portrayed H4NJ1 on the number plate. I watched from the window of my bedroom as the driver stepped out of the van. She had long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, a pair of glasses framing her wide eyes, and a contagious smile. Unless I'd had completely the wrong image of Levi stuck in my head, this was Hanji.  
Barely half a minute after Hanji disappeared into the building, there was a knock at my door. Stohess wasn't exactly praised for its security, so I wasn't surprised that she'd managed to get through the front entrance of the apartment complex. I went to the front door and hastily opened it, unsure of what to expect from a woman who'd managed to befriend someone like Levi.  
The moment she set foot in the apartment, I was smothered by Hanji's arms in a hug too tight for anyone else of our species to give.   
"Hi, Eren!" She yelled excitedly, one hand ruffling my hair as she squeezed me tightly enough to put my circulation at risk. My face was pressed against her chest, which in all honesty I wasn't too thrilled about. In year nine, Jean gave me the pathetic nickname of Eren Gayger, and I always knew he was correct.  
Once she heard me gasping for breath, she let me go. "Are you okay, Eren?" She asked, alarmed. "Should I call an ambulance?"  
"I'm fine," I reassured her as I rubbed my chest. "Um, hello, Hanji."  
"Sorry about that," She grinned, pinching my cheeks rather painfully. "I'm just so excited! I think you and Levi will get on straight away!"  
I stared at Hanji for a moment, overwhelmed by what was more of an attack than a greeting. I also took this time to wonder whether anyone other than Hanji had ever got on with Levi. Hanji struck me as someone you either loved or hated, kind of like Marmite. She was certainly full-on.  
"So, are you just going to stand there and marvel at me," She grabbed my wrist with one hand, "or are you coming to help us unload the van?"  
"Us?" I repeated.  
"Me and Levi, of course!" She replied, dragging me out of the apartment. She moved so quickly that I was out of breath simply by keeping up with her as she galloped down the stairs, and I didn't even get a chance to correct her by saying "Levi and I." Hanji's orange van was attracting some attention outside, including that of Jean, who was standing on the pavement, on the other side of the road. He stared at it, open-mouthed and drooling as usual, then caught sight of me and glared like a fox at a chicken.   
I gave him a polite wave. With my middle finger.   
"Oh, is that the one you don't like?" Hanji asked very loudly, although hopefully it didn't reach Jean's ears. He continued to glare at me, although that's what he always did.  
I nodded. "Jean Kirstein. Don't get me started."  
"Oh, I won't," She smiled, "we don't have time for that!" She threw the back doors of the van open to reveal some cardboard boxes with the name "LEVI" scrawled on them in black marker, sealed with duct tape.   
Hanji leaned into the van and yelled, "come on, you lazy ass!" Then she grabbed one box and turned to leave. "I'll take this up to the apartment," She told me. "You can say hi to Levi!"  
"Okay," I replied cautiously although she'd already gone. So I stood still, unmoving, unsure what to expect from my new roommate. Eventually the passenger door opened and Levi stepped out.  
He was short, at least three inches shorter than me. He was wearing a dark red hoodie and black jeans, and his hair was styled in a rather unique undercut, dark strands falling back as he looked up at me.   
He looked bored as soon as he saw me. I wasn't sure if he'd even read my advertisement, but obviously I didn't live up to his expectations.   
I stuck my hand out. He peered uninterestedly at it. I dropped my arm back to my side.  
"Hi, Levi," I attempted, "I'm Eren Jaeger."  
"I know."  
We were not off to a good start.  
Levi walked straight past me to the back of the van and took what must have been the largest box. I couldn't help but look at him sceptically, since the image of such a small man carrying such a big box was quite comical.   
"Do you want me to take that?" I offered, pointing at the box. "It looks heavy."  
He turned his head to look at me again. Although his gaze was nothing like Jean's glare, I couldn't help but think of how intimidating they both were. It was like Levi was looking down at me, in disgust, disapproval.  
"Short people can't carry boxes, can they?" Levi said as he raised one eyebrow.  
"I-I wasn't saying that --"  
"Look, Jaeger," He spat, "let me get this straight. I don't need your help. I don't need your assistance to carry a box, nor will I ever need your help with anything else. I'm not a damsel in distress and you're no Prince Charming, either."  
I gave a small nod and he walked into the apartment complex. "It's only a box," I muttered to myself.  
Between the three of us, we managed to get all of Levi's things into my -- our -- apartment fairly quickly. Hanji hugged me again, thankfully not as tightly as before, as we said goodbye to each other, then gave a similar embrace to Levi. He must have been used to them by now, as he simply rolled his eyes and went along with it.  
As quickly as Hanji had burst into my life, she was gone, and I was left with a man who was possibly the grumpiest roommate in existence.  
I opened my mouth and before I could speak, Levi said, "No. I can unpack by myself."  
"Oh, okay," I shrugged and swallowed. "Well, there's food and stuff in the kitchen if you're hungry."  
"In the kitchen?" He echoed, feigning shock. "I'm so glad you informed me. I'd never have figured that one out."  
It was surprisingly sarcastic, and he sounded so sulky that I didn't laugh as Hanji had instructed in the email. Levi huffed and went to his new room, shutting the door behind him.  
I didn't see Levi after that until eleven o'clock that night, when I was in the living room, watching a documentary about space on TV for no particular reason, and he walked through the room to get to the kitchen. There were no walls or doors separating both rooms, so I discreetly watched him as he searched in the cupboards for something of his approval.  
He had a nice ass.  
He couldn't seem to figure out where anything was. I thought I'd be kind. "Do you need any-"  
"Shut the fuck up, I do not need your help." He interrupted bluntly.  
"Can you reach the top shelf?" I asked rather stupidly.  
"It's almost as if you really do want your head kicked in," He replied smoothly, settling for a bag of crisps -- the black packet. He turned on his heel and walked out, deliberately walking between the TV and me, blocking my view momentarily.  
University started in September, and each morning as I walked past the door to Levi's room, hurrying as I grabbed my coat and shoved my shoes onto my feet, I called "good morning, Levi," which was reduced to "see you later, Levi," and eventually just "bye."  
None of these ever received a reply. Levi spent his life cooped up behind that door, typing away at his computer, occasionally leaving his room to go to the bathroom, or to grab some food. When he took a proper break, it was to obsessively clean, and definitely not to spend any time with me. There were a few days when he actually left the apartment, looking rather stressed, in a t shirt and joggers.  
"Where are you going?" I asked on one of these days, out of curiosity.  
"To kill some giants," He replied.  
"What?"  
"Where do you think I'm going, brat?" He huffed.  
"I don't know, to kill some giants?"  
"I'm going running." He said plainly. "And I'm getting away from you," He added, before slamming the door behind him as he left.   
I spent the rest of that day rereading Pride and Prejudice, and making notes on Elizabeth Bennet's relationship with Mr Darcy. Levi returned a couple of hours later.  
"Hey," I said as he walked through to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and shoving it under the cold tap. He ignored me, of course.  
Then I properly looked at him. He was sweating, breathing heavily, his t shirt clinging closely to his body as he lifted the glass to his lips and drank thirstily.  
I had to force myself to look away.  
He looked over at me, and must have noticed how flushed my face was. "Hot in here, isn't it?" He said, sounding quite exhausted. It was actually an attempt at conversation, which was definitely unusual for Levi, so I nodded quickly, adamant not to look back at him in fear that I'd never look away again.  
He washed the glass quickly but thoroughly as he always did and placed it back in the cupboard, then went to the bathroom. I heard the stream of the shower.  
I threw my copy of Pride and Prejudice on the sofa next to me and rubbed my hands over my face.  
I had a hot roommate.  
But crushes didn't develop from getting a bit flustered over a hot, sweaty guy who was usually as miserable as an embodiment of Hell itself and looked for any reason not to spend time in my presence.  
Right?  
Besides, he would probably storm out of the bathroom, fully dressed, furious at me for staring at him like I did. It was nearly impossible to get on with Levi. God knows how Hanji managed it, he was the dark cloud to her sunshine. Then again I've never been a blue sky.  
I spent the next five or ten minutes telling myself to calm the hell down. Then Levi came out of the shower with wet hair and nothing but jeans on, and my efforts flew right out of the window.  
He came to the door and I looked up at him, forcing myself to concentrate on his face and not the rest of his body. He was lean and muscled even though he'd spend almost all of his time since arriving in Stohess on his computer. I knew he was fluent in French so I wondered if he'd lived there at some point, which would explain a tan that had lasted.  
My attempt at keeping my gaze on his face had failed.  
"Forgot to take a shirt into the bathroom," He explained as I looked at him with what must have appeared to be curious eyes. Then he looked at the book that I had thrown down next to me. "Pride and Prejudice."  
"Yeah," I said. My voice was involuntarily quiet.  
"You like reading?"  
Levi was actually showing an interest in me.  
I nodded. "I guess I do. I mean, I have to do a lot of it, for university."  
That was one of the things I'd noticed about Levi, but it was obvious. I only understood the obvious things about him. When Hanji sent me that first email, I assumed that Levi was a student too, but unless he was doing some sort of online course, he was here for reasons unknown to me. I had no idea how old he was, and I could only assume that he was young; his face didn't give anything away but it never did, come to think of it.   
"What are you studying?" He asked.  
"English literature," I replied. The conversation fell flat as he nodded wordlessly.  
Small talk. Hanji said this was one thing Levi hated. So why was I an exception to the rule?  
Levi walked over to the sofa and picked up the book, peering at it with a small amount of interest flickering in his dark, tired eyes. "Do you write?"  
I had no expectations of Levi, but I never thought he'd ask something like that.  
"I try," I said, the words sounding pathetic as they left my lips. "Do you?"  
He didn't reply. Instead he leaned over to pass the book back to me. I took it with both hands but he didn't let go. Our fingers brushed lightly, briefly, long enough for me to look up at Levi and see him looking down at me. There was a gentleness on his face that I'd never seen from him before.  
"You should put this somewhere safe." He told me quietly, before deliberately adding, "you don't want to lose it."  
He took his hands away from mine and I allowed the book to drop into my lap. I stared at it for a moment and when I looked up again, Levi was gone.  
We reverted back to our usual routine after that day. I would hurry to university every weekday, calling goodbye to him although he didn't respond. I read more classic novels. Sometimes he'd go running. He didn't say much more than "clean this fucking plate, brat, will you?" to me, and we continued like that for weeks. September crawled by, and October wasn't much faster or more exciting. Finally, our week off arrived. Mikasa and Armin had travelled all the way from Trost to Stohess, because I didn't have the money to get to Trost, and they wanted to visit Jean for reasons I couldn't fathom.   
I knocked on Levi's door on the morning of this day, and told him through it that my sister and best friend were visiting, and that he was very welcome to meet them if he wanted to, but if he didn't I totally understood because Mikasa was a bit terrifying and Armin was essentially a blonde baby in comparison. It was an essay of a monologue compared to the usual conversations that Levi and I had, and he didn't even grunt. The only reason I knew he'd heard was because his usual quick typing paused as I spoke.  
For the sake of the two people in the world who meant the most to me, I actually invited Jean over. Marco, of course, was with him, but I liked Marco. Everyone liked Marco. He had more kindness than he had freckles, and he had a considerable amount of those. Jean, however, was still an arrogant prick. Mikasa hasn't changed; she still treated me like a child. Armin was Armin, the same boy I'd befriended all those years ago in elementary school when Jean stole his toy car and I punched him as well as a six-year-old could punch in order to get it back.  
We talked about university, complained about high school teachers, pondered over the future. Then Mikasa decided to bring the topic of roommates into the discussion.  
"So, Eren," She said with a gentle smile that I was used to, a smile that told me she thought something was wrong. Maybe I wasn't hiding my increasingly frequent thoughts about Levi as well as I hoped. "How is your roommate?"  
I replied with a big, grand "Um."  
How could I describe someone like Levi to my sister? He was nice. Sometimes. Rarely. He was nice one time. But he was mostly moody, not angry but somewhat like a boiling pot of water that never quite spilled over it's sides, and hopefully never would. I didn't know him well enough to truly explain him to my friends, and I doubted I ever would.  
"He's alright," I said finally, settling on words that were an easy escape. "I don't see him much."  
"What does he study?" She asked, tilting her head with interest that bordered on nosiness.  
"He doesn't."  
"What does he do, then?" Armin asked with a slight frown.  
"I don't know," I shrugged, but I knew that wouldn't be a satisfying answer. "He's usually just in his room, on his computer."  
"Probably just tossing himself off over Japanese cartoon porn," Jean sneered.  
I didn't know why, but I felt the need to defend Levi. In fact I would probably have defended anyone against Jean, and Levi had pointedly told me he didn't need my help. But it felt like something I had to do.  
"That sounds very specific, Jean," I replied through gritted teeth, "do you do it yourself?"  
"Eren," Mikasa began, but I'd angered Jean and he pissed me off too, just by being in my own apartment.   
"I'm not listening to your shitty comebacks, Eren," Jean spat. "Talk to me when you get a girlfriend. Oh, wait..." He laughed to himself, one of his habits since he, for some reason, thought he was absolutely hilarious. "Sorry, Gayger."  
I was prepared to comment on the unoriginality of this joke, since it had been used more times than I cared to count, and how it didn't bother me since I was openly gay and therefore had absolutely no desire to get a girlfriend, But Jean's eyes flickered to the doorframe. I turned around to see what he was looking at and saw the man who had indirectly caused our bickering.  
Levi leaned against the doorframe, unblinking, one eyebrow lazily raised as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Jean with the intimidating gaze he'd used on me so many times. "If I were you," He said, monotonous, "I wouldn't start a fight with Eren. I bet he throws a good punch. In fact, he seems to be quite good with his hands."  
Jean stared at Levi in disbelief, open-mouthed, maybe because he was expecting someone a lot taller, or maybe because, despite his usual blinding idiocy, he'd picked up on Levi's choice of words.   
"Careful, Jean," I hissed, "we don't want to see you drool again."  
Jean looked at me, and if looks were weapons, I would have been slaughtered.  
I glanced back at Levi. His eyes were locked on me. He gave me a small smile before retreating to his room. Silence settled across the table we were sitting at.  
"I'm sure he's lovely once you get to know him," Marco smiled cheerily.  
Perhaps Marco was right.  
I spent all of my nights wondering if Levi was sleeping, or working on his computer, guessing what was on his mind or why he was in Stohess, thinking about how he looked after running, a sweaty mess who left me no other option than to look in the other direction when he came home, in order for me to control myself.   
That night was different.  
That night, as I lay in bed, my mind didn't flood with thoughts about Levi, from the mysterious to the surprisingly attractive. Instead, his voice was in my mind, playing and replaying his words from so many weeks ago.  
 _"You don't want to lose it."_  
What had he lost?  
Then, with a smile, I thought of what he'd said earlier that day. _"He seems to be quite good with his hands."_ _  
_Arguing with Jean always riled me and today would probably have resulted in, as Levi said, a fistfight, if Mikasa and Armin hadn't been there, and if Levi hadn't said one simple, effortless thing to shut Jean up. I was envious of that talent.  
I climbed out of bed and smoothed my hair down, then stepped out of the room and crossed the hallway to Levi's room. I was going to thank him.  
I realised that the typing had ceased. I had my hand raised, ready to knock the door when the possibility of him being asleep crossed my mind. Then I heard him breathing heavily. He sounded angry. He sounded upset.  
"Levi?" I called softly without bothering to knock the door. I held my breath and waited. I heard footsteps, and then the door opened.  
Levi didn't look at me straight away. He hadn't been crying, but for someone who normally had so much control over his emotions, he looked pretty upset.   
"What do you want, Jaeger?" He asked tiredly as he looked up, one hand on the doorknob and the other against the frame.   
"Thank you," I said quietly as I nervously met his eyes with mine.  
He looked at me blankly. "For what?"  
"For standing up for me."  
Levi laughed mirthlessly. "The guy seemed like a brat," He muttered.  
"Oh, he is," I assured him.  
He sighed. "You don't need to thank me for pissing someone off. I do it a lot. And besides, it's the least I can do."  
I frowned at him. "What do you mean?"  
He rolled his eyes. "You're a good roommate, Eren."  
"How?"  
"There were eleven things Hanji told you to be wary of about me on her email," He replied, "and most of them were, admittedly, pathetic. But you've managed to stay clear of most of them. Including one in particular. And I'm grateful."  
Once again, around Levi, I was speechless.  
"N-no problem," I managed.  
He gave me a barely noticeable smile for the second time that day, then he moved his hand from the doorknob, reached up, and gently touched the side of my face. The tips of his fingers were rough, and my breath caught in my throat. He looked at me with caution, as if I was fragile, something that would shatter to thousands of pieces if he wasn't careful.  
He reached up and kissed me.  
His lips were soft, pressed against mine gently, like he was afraid of breaking me. Maybe he was. Maybe he was broken himself. Maybe whatever he'd lost was irreplaceable, like a part of him that was missing, leaving him incomplete.  
"Thank you," He murmured, his face no more than an inch away from mine, his breath warm on my lips. "Goodnight, Eren."  
He closed the door, shut himself away again, before I could reply.  
I walked back to my room and leaned against the door once I closed it.  
Levi had just kissed me.  
What was the one thing in particular I hadn't mentioned during our time as roommates? There were many things. We hardly spoke and Levi had told me barely anything about himself.  
I thought of Hanji's email.  
"Don't mention the army, or war."  
Was that it? The other things Hanji had listed were petty in comparison. War was a much more serious topic than neon yellow or what washing liquid we used.  
Had Levi been in the army?  
I told myself I was jumping to conclusions. Maybe he had family in the army.  
But the idea wasn't unheard of; many people enlisted at a young age, didn't they? I read a novella about it in school.  
I didn't get to sleep until early the next morning, and by the time I woke up and dragged myself to the bathroom, the sun was bright and suspended in the middle of the sky, and Levi had left. On my way back from the shower, as I passed the door of his bedroom, a thought crossed my mind.   
What the hell did he actually do on his computer, all day and all night?  
I stood in front of his door, staring at the doorknob, and tossed the thought around in my mind like a tennis ball. If Levi came home and saw me in his room, I was absolutely, disastrously fucked.  
On the other hand, the chances that he would come home were low, considering he usually spent quite a long time running, and I was curious.  
I opened the door.  
The room was so clean that I had to remind myself he even lived in it. Everything was straight, books stacked in neat piles on his shelves, and any dust would be embarrassed to be seen here. The room was immaculate.   
The only thing that seemed out of place was a shoebox on his desk.  
I cautiously walked over to the desk and, with trembling hands, lifted the lid away from the box.  
It was full of medals, belonging to a soldier. They shone too proudly for things that were kept hidden away in a shoebox. They didn't seem too old, either. Levi must have been in his mid twenties. His parents would be at least in their forties, then, if not older, and that would be a rather unrealistic age to be in the army.  
So that meant...  
I forced myself not to make assumptions as I placed the lid back on the box. Then I reached forward and tapped the mouse of his computer, expecting him to be logged out, in case bratty roommates with prying eyes and an overwhelming amount of nosiness snuck into his room.  
But he was logged in. And MS Word was open.  
I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the light of the screen. Before my eyes were paragraphs and paragraphs, pages upon pages of writing in a small font. I was too afraid to make the words bigger, so I squinted as I read.  
  
 _Some memories come back to me now, as I write. Most are barely substantial, flashes of yellow and orange that blinded me at the time, shouts and pleads for help that swirl around my mind like the smoke I choked on. I have chosen to forget most of these memories. I've forced myself to discard them, erase them from my mind although their lasting effects, my regrets, will remain with me for the rest of my life.  
The worst memories are those that have stayed with me. The ones I wish were only colours and noises are vivid, detailed, eternally haunting. The images of Auruo and Petra whispering to each other in the night, images I originally thought were rather sickeningly romantic, are now obscured by pictures in my mind of them on the floor, their bodies crushed and trampled on by the feet of armies of men and women who barely saw them as humans, much less lovers, dead.  
The only remotely consoling thing about their deaths is that they died together. One did not have to see the other fall to the ground and have the life shot out of them as I saw them. They didn't lose each other as I lost them.  
I couldn't describe Gunther and Eld's deaths if I tried. I wasn't there. I allowed them to die because I was too busy saving my own worthless life. Four fifths of a squad, four of my best friends, dead because of my own selfishness.   
Hanji told me I couldn't have saved them, not out there in somewhere like Afghanistan, but they are dead and I am alive, and that is how it'll stay until I die, however that may happen._  
  
I stared at the screen in disbelief. Levi was a writer.  
I considered the idea that his writing was fictional. But between that, the medals, the last sentence of Hanji's email, and the mention of Hanji herself in Levi’s writing, it was hard not to believe that Levi really was in the army.  
He'd lost his squad.  
He'd lost his friends.  
And I had invaded not only his privacy, but his nightmares.   
I backed away from the computer slowly, putting one hand over my face in shame. I silently crept out of the room and shut the door behind me, breathing slowly.  
"Did you enjoy your little bedtime story, Jaeger?"  
Levi's voice filled me with the urge to be sick.  
I turned around reluctantly to look at him, my hands shaking. He looked utterly furious, which was terrifying, although flushed and sweating as he usually did after running.  
In that moment I saw him as someone who'd seen his best friends die.  
The next thing I knew, I was pinned up against the wall, held at arm's length by Levi who had his hands pressed against my throat.  
"If you dare move even a finger, Jaeger, I will choke you," He whispered, belittling me with a glare. "What the hell were you thinking, sneaking into my room like vermin? You think that just because I thanked you for being less of an utter asshole than I thought you were, you were entitled to all of my secrets?" His voice rose as he spoke, and he paused to take a few breaths before continuing. "Well, you know them now, thanks to your complete disrespect of my privacy. So, you shitty brat, I say this in the politest way possible, please fuck off. Kindly stay out of my life."  
He took his hands away from my neck and turned to open the bathroom door. I spoke before I could stop myself.  
"What about the kiss?" I asked pathetically, desperately, clinging to the little hope I had left. He stared at me, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. I was a headache to him.  
"What _about_ the kiss, Eren?" Levi said quietly. He sounded tired.  
In all honesty, I hadn't planned what I was going to say after my childish question. I shrugged. "Didn't it mean anything to you?"  
He opened his eyes, dropped his hand and laughed, like he actually thought this was funny. "Did it mean anything to me?" He sneered. "No. No, it didn't. Of course it didn't! You mean nothing to me, Jaeger. I don't give a shit about you. In fact I couldn't give less of a shit about you if I was constipated!" His voice had risen to a growl. "You're just a brat of a kid who had a room to spare, and I'm a man who needed to get away. You minded your own horribly boring business for a couple of months, so I kissed you to return the favour. That's all it was, brat. I don't care about you. I felt nothing when I kissed you. Nothing."  
Levi slammed the door shut as he went into the bathroom. It took a few minutes before he turned the shower on.  
I leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. White paint was peeling back to reveal dark brown and black patches. We needed to get that fixed.  
No. I needed to get that fixed. There was no "we". Levi didn't care about me. We weren't friends or anything more. Actually, we were barely roommates. Nothing would ever develop further than that one kiss we shared no more than twelve hours ago, because he probably hated me, and I didn't blame him.   
For the next three weeks, I didn't see him.  
I barely knew he was alive. The only signs were food disappearing from the cupboards, the bathroom being left cleaner than I'd left it, shallow breathing as Levi heard me hovering on the other side of his bedroom door, lifting my hand to knock it but never actually knocking, opening my mouth to speak to him but never actually speaking. I didn't call goodbye to him as I left, nor did I call hello to him as I returned, and he never told me he was going out to run. I simply heard two doors slamming within quick succession of each other.  
I was reckless. I'd done something idiotic without even considering beforehand how I'd regret it, whereas what Levi did was regret things. No, I didn't blame him at all for possibly hating me. I had grown to hate myself, so it was only another addition to the list.   
It was quite a large shock, then, that he knocked on my door at half past two on a Wednesday morning.  
There was no point in smoothing my hair down or wiping my eyes. Levi didn't care about me. He didn't give a shit about me. He didn't feel anything towards me.  
Yes, I'd been crying. It was nothing new. This still didn't make me feel any better, especially when I opened the door and saw that Levi, fully clothed and stifling a yawn, hadn't.  
I looked down at him, preparing myself for a rant about whichever aspect of my atrocious personality he'd been nitpicking recently. But he simply said, "Hey."  
"Hey," I returned with a shaky voice.  
"You okay?" He asked.  
"I'm fine," I lied.  
"Are you sure about that?"  
I took a deep breath. "No. Actually, I'm not fine. But why are you asking? Why do you care enough to ask if you clearly don't give a shit about me?"  
"Because I have writer's block."  
"Writer's block," I repeated dully. I wasn't sure what I'd expected but it was definitely a lot more than writer's block.  
"Yes," He nodded, "and I thought I'd turn to my favourite English student to help me out."  
"Favourite?" I echoed. "Do you even know any other English students?"  
He frowned momentarily, deep in thought. "No."  
Then he walked back to his room and beckoned for me to follow him. I did, reluctantly. "You've already made yourself familiar with my room," He said, a hint of resentment in his voice, "so you might as well come in."  
"Can I sit down?" I asked, glancing at the bed as he took the chair next to his desk.  
"Yes, brat. I don't like you but I don't entirely hate you."  
I wasn't sure whether or not he meant his words reassuringly, but that was surprising to hear, considering how much I'd convinced myself that Levi really did despise me.   
"So, how can I help?" I said, feeling considerably similar to a supermarket employee.  
"I have writer's block," Levi said again.  
"I know." I replied. "What are you writing?"  
"You know what I'm writing, Jaeger. And you think you've discovered the tortured soul within my cold heart."  
"No, I meant what --"  
"What angst-ridden paragraph am I slaving over tonight?" He suggested, supplying better words than I'd ever have chosen. He made me feel quite embarrassed as an English literature student.   
"Um, yes."  
Levi looked away, eyes on the floor. "I don't know. I can't find the words."  
"I can't help you if you don't know what you're writing."  
"What did you read?" He asked suddenly, demanding.  
"What?"  
"Don't play dumb, brat," He muttered, "what part did you read?"  
"Auruo and Petra," I murmured softly, "and Gunther and Eld."  
"Oh."  
I looked up at him. He was looking at me with an amount of openness I'd never seen in his eyes before. It was like a door that was usually locked being left ajar.  
"I'm sorry," I said, "for reading your work."  
Levi gave a small shrug. "Apology accepted. There's no point in being angry at you now. It's been three weeks," He said with a shadow of a sad smile.  
Our eye contact broke as we both looked away, and then the door I imagined to be open was shut again. "Well, I'm still uninspired," He said in a louder voice than before. "So you've been useless. You need to sleep, and so do I."  
I nodded and walked to the door.  
"Eren," Levi said reluctantly. I turned to look at him. "I'm not going to apologise for having a go at you, because after all you stuck your nose in my business and you fucking shouldn't have." He sighed. "But I shouldn't have told you I didn't care about you."  
My eyes widened as I watched him watching me.  
"Because I do," He finished, the truth of the words weighing his voice down.  
Levi didn't move, and neither did I.  
"Goodnight, Eren."  
"Goodnight, Levi."  
I left the room, smiling to myself.  
This marked the beginning of a new routine. I never called out to Levi as I passed his door, simply because I never knew when he was awake or asleep. When we were in the same room, we spoke. He woke me up occasionally, at obscene hours of the night and morning, to talk about everything and nothing. We talked about why I hated Jean, how Levi managed to get along with Hanji and how behind her initial quirkiness there was the brain of a genius. We talked about classic novels. Levi told me about what it was like in France, and what he thought of Stohess.  
We talked about the war. About Levi's squad. He told me how he'd enlisted at the age of sixteen and spent every spare moment training and pushing himself as far as he could go. It was Auruo that told him to relax once they went to war. Through Auruo, he met Petra.  
It was always on his terms, but I preferred not to risk it, bring something up and be punched in the face.  
It was exactly midnight, on one of these occasions, when I heard Levi call my name from across the hall.  
"Hey. Eren."  
I was nowhere near asleep, and in a surprisingly good mood upon deciding that being friends with Levi was something I could manage, even if my feelings for him hadn't lessened. I went to the door and opened it.  
Levi's eyes were bloodshot. He looked tired. I wondered if he'd been crying but his eyes weren't swollen, and he was Levi. He looked as if he was struggling to hide sadness, which was unusual for someone so blunt and expressionless.   
"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly.  
He nodded. "I'm fine. Can't word what I'm writing properly."  
"Alright," I said, leaning against the doorframe. "Why don't you talk it out?" I suggested.  
"Talk it out." He repeated, looking at me dully. "To you."  
"I'm your only option, unless you want to wake Jean up."  
"I'm not insane, brat." Levi spat. "Right. Come in," He said, nodding his head at his room. I was used to this. I went into his room and sat on the bed.  
"You're not ideal," Levi muttered as he closed the door. "You're eighteen, right?"  
I nodded.  
"Have you ever loved anyone?"  
I widened my eyes in brief shock. "What d-do you mean?"  
"You know what I mean," He sighed as he slumped down in his desk chair. "Have you ever loved someone, Jaeger? Have you ever cared so much about someone that you want to punch yourself in the face for unintentionally and completely letting yourself fall for them?"  
Jealousy pierced my chest. I tried not to look disappointed. I had managed to accept that Levi would never feel about me as I felt about him, but the words he spoke were still like a knife being driven between my ribs.   
"I-I don't know."  
"Good for you, brat," He muttered.  
I wasn't sure why I gave that answer, considering that as Levi described that particular emotion, I became increasingly surer that I really did feel it.  
He was impossible at times, like walking on eggshells that were on top of lava, he spoke to me like dirt whenever he felt like it, and whenever I plucked up the courage to start a conversation with him, instead of the other way around as usual, he was asleep.  
But I loved him.   
I cared about him, I wanted him, and, despite all these things, I loved him.   
So it wasn't really good for me at all.  
"Why are you writing about love?" I asked gingerly.  
"Because it interests me. It irritates me. It sickens me." He answered. "Because for the past year, the only things on my mind have been my squad dying, and me writing about it. Until now."  
Levi loved someone. I wondered if it was Hanji, if that was why he miraculously managed to sustain a friendship with her. But it seemed unlikely. If I saw Levi and Hanji walking in different directions on a street I'd never put them together as friends, but definitely not as lovers.  
Why was he telling me about this, though? Was he sick of having no one but his computer to discuss this with? Was he trying to make it clear that he had absolutely no feelings for me whatsoever? If that was the case, it was working.  
"So, my question to you, Jaeger," Levi said, regaining his former superiority, "is how the fuck do I write about how I, of all people, have somehow fallen in love with a shitty brat who is miles and miles away both physically and mentally from the battle zone I've felt so tied to for such a long time?"  
"Do you really have to write it?" I said quietly.  
"What?" He frowned at me with impatience.  
"Why don't you just tell that person," I replied, "instead of writing about them?"  
"Eren," He began, causing the ache in my chest to swell as he said my first name gently, "if he read between the lines I think he'd find that he actually knew."  
I didn't get much sleep that night.  
I was exhausted in university the next day, my mind crammed with thoughts that ranged from Levi's love for someone that wasn't me to Elizabeth Bennet's love for Mr Darcy. In fact, the only thing I seemed to be enjoying about life was reading Pride and Prejudice, which was saying something, considering I'd read it before, too many times to count. Of all themes the novel contained I had naively chosen to study at the start of the academic year, it had to be love.  
This book, along with a pencil, was in my hand at almost all times during my hours in university, and the day after Levi's confession was no exception to this rule. I was sitting in the library, a place I spent a lot of time in since I was absolutely sure I wouldn't run into Jean, as I turned to the page I'd previously finished reading at.  
I blinked at the page as I saw notes scrawled in neat handwriting that was nothing like mine, a sentence hiding between each line.

 _In order to recognise the theme of love in this novel, one must delve further into the study of the character of Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy (who has rather a ridiculous name). Some would describe Mr Darcy as asocial but many believe that he is a condescending, intimidating man who acts dismissively towards Elizabeth Bennet on many occasions before developing an unwanted attachment to her. This happens to many people in real life, and these people must accept and apologise for the truth, which is that they are dickheads. The reader, who, notably, is a shitty brat, must read between the lines to understand this theme._  
  
My hands shook as I turned the page, to reveal only one sentence.  
  
 _As the French say, Eren Jaeger, je suis amoreux de toi._  
  
I was thankful for how paralysed I was by the words written by this unfamiliar handwriting, because otherwise I'd probably have sprinted all the way home to the only person who could have written them.  
Levi.  
I was never good at French. In fact, in school I'd argued with Mikasa, who claimed I wasn't making enough effort, many times over the subject. But "je" and "toi" meant this was written in first person, about me, and I vaguely recognised the word "amoreux" as some version of "amour".   
It was the French translation of "love".  
My much-abused copy of the book was either with me or at home, chucked on the sofa before Levi irritably placed it on the coffee table. No one else could have written it. Hanji had even promised that her best friend would frighten any burglars and send them running for their lives. And it wasn't much of a secret anymore that Levi was in love.  
With me.  
The rest of my day was spent in lectures that I didn't really pay much attention to. My literature lecturer, who insisted we addressed him simply as Pixis, spoke words that I didn't hear, since I was deafened by memories of everything Levi had said to me recently that wasn't to do with the washing machine. In the middle of this lecture, I finally became aware that all eyes in the room were on me, even the pair that belonged to Sasha Braus, who was usually distracted by any kind of food that was made from potatoes.  
"Did you hear my question, Eren?" Pixis asked, with both eyebrows raised. I shook my head as I felt myself blushing. "I asked you what you thought of the theme of love in Pride and Prejudice."  
Of all people, all occasions and all topics, it had to be me who was asked a question on that day about love.  
"In all honesty, Pixis, I just find it really confusing," I replied with a small shrug.  
I drove home so quickly that afternoon that I was surprised not to have blue and red lights flashing in my wing mirrors. Once I reached the door of the apartment, though, my hand was trembling and my body seemed to be incapable of breathing. I forced myself to open the door.  
Levi was leaning against the frame of his door as I walked in. His lips curled into half a smug smile as he saw me.  
"Hey," I said very reluctantly, very quietly and very shakily.  
"Hey," He returned.  
I took a sharp breath. Then I distracted myself by kicking my shoes off. If I left as much as a mark on the floor, Levi would be far from impressed. Very far. Continents away.   
"How was your day?" He asked.  
"Pride and Prejudice," I blurted out as I dropped my bag to the floor.  
"For someone who studies the English language, you're not very good at it," Levi mused. "Those are nouns, brat. Not adjectives."  
"You want adjectives? Alright," I replied, "my day so far has been peculiar, disorienting, unusual, and tediously long thanks to something that happened this morning."  
"What happened this morning?" He looked completely uninterested.  
"I read the notes between one page and one line of a book."  
"What book?"  
"Pride and Prejudice," I said again.  
He nodded. "I read it a long time ago. _Is not general incivility the very essence of love?_ "  
"I don't know," I said as I walked closer to him until there was about a foot between us, "the only thing I read about love today was in French."  
"And what was that?"  
"I was hoping you'd tell me." It was almost more than I could manage to keep my tone of voice low. I was on edge around Levi and he sensed this, so, of course, he wanted to increase my nerves even further.  
He managed to do this quite well.  
I was wearing a plaid shirt. Mikasa had bought it for me before we both moved, saying that I had no fashion sense, which she was probably right about.  
Levi reached out, grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me closer to him. His fingers moved slowly and gently to undo the buttons. "Je suis amoreux du toi," He enunciated clearly. "I'm in love with you."  
I was shocked that he didn't feel my heart pound against my chest as his hands travelled down the top half of my body. "It's not a very common phrase, though," He continued calmly, "in France we tend to say something else. Confusing you is rather amusing."  
"W-what do you say in France?" I stammered as my face flushed, ashamed of my lack of control over my own voice.  
"Je t'aime," Levi replied, the words soft on his lips as he looked up at me. "For some reason, Eren, that I am completely oblivious to, I love you."  
Then he kissed me, our lips barely touching as he ran his hands up to my shoulders and slid the shirt he'd unbuttoned along my arms and away from my body.  
To put together the pieces of the puzzle Levi had scattered around, out loud and in writing, was one thing. Hearing him say the words was entirely different. Levi was extraordinary and I was just Eren.  
"Why?" I asked him, instantly feeling foolish for not returning his words straight away. He looked amused, though, as he pulled my body against his and brushed his lips against my neck.  
"Because you're an idiot," He murmured, his breath warm. I closed my eyes as he spoke. "Because you haven't seen enough of the world and I've seen too much of it. Because I've spent three months trying to keep my hands off you, and I haven't been entirely successful anyway."  
"I love you," I told Levi, smiling.  
"Good," He replied. His mouth found mine again and he separated my lips as he ran his tongue along them. He placed his hands on my bare waist and pushed me steadily into his room. I pulled away from him and glanced over my shoulder warily to make sure I wouldn't trip over anything or knock anything over. I'd probably have been murdered.   
"Can't you trust me?" Levi teased.  
I apologised quickly. "You really are amazing," I said.  
"Ugh, stop being so pathetic," He groaned as I pulled his T shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. "And if you make a mess, you'll be the one cleaning it up later, not me."  
Levi pushed me down so that I was sitting on his bed, with his arms around my neck and my hands on his waist. He seemed to enjoy appearing taller than me even though it was only because I was sitting and he was standing. I smiled against his lips.  
"Shut up, brat," He hissed as if I knew what I was thinking. He bit my bottom lip as I curled my arms around him and pulled him closer. One thing was evident, and it was that Levi was definitely not going to give me a chance to do much at all.  
I didn't have a problem with it. His confidence was attractive.  
Levi pulled away momentarily to look at me and I took the opportunity to lightly joke, "Until recently I didn't even know you liked guys."  
He moved one of his hands from the back of my neck to one of my own hands, and slid it down to his ass. "Well," He replied, "I think you definitely know now."  
Then he pushed me back onto the bed, his hands steady against my chest. He smiled slightly, amused, as he looked at me, his eyes on my own, on my lips, on the naked top half of my body. Levi's smile wasn't something I was used to, and I was even less accustomed to him smiling because of me.  
"Stop looking so surprised, brat," Levi rolled his eyes as he climbed onto the bed. I had to move further up it to give him room, but he didn't seem to want much distance between us, and I was willing to let him have what he wanted. "We've already established that I can tolerate you."  
"Tolerate," I repeated as I grinned, despite my efforts to keep calm.  
"Alright, more than tolerate," He replied, sounding exasperated as he lowered himself so that his body was inches above mine. "Give me a break, will you? I'm trying to be reserved, but it's quite difficult to hold a conversation when the one thing I can properly think about is how you're only half as naked as I want you to be."  
Levi placed his lips against mine again, then kissed along my jawline and then my neck, trying to find the most sensitive spot. I involuntarily let out a moan as he gently bit under my ear, and I wondered how he could manage to make conversation at all in this situation. "If this has got you moaning, God help you when I do what I want to you," He muttered against my neck.  
"What do you want to do to me?" I asked naively, before I could consider whether or not I really wanted to know.  
"Well, it doesn't involve you wearing anything," He told me as his hand trailed along my chest and down to my waist. Careful fingers unbuttoned, unzipped, pulled at my jeans until they were off, and chucked on the floor.  
"I had everything so neat and clean until you showed up, Eren," Levi said with the faintest smile, his lips centimetres from mine again. "Everything was sorted until you showed up."  
That's not fair," I argued, "I think it's pretty obvious who's in control here, so that's not my fault."  
"It's your fault, you piece of shit. And I expect you to tidy up later."  
I nodded quickly. I didn't get a chance to reply, because as soon as the same fingers were touching my dick through my boxers, I had to turn my face into the pillow to stop sounding like a desperate idiot.  
Then again, that's what I was at that moment in time.   
Levi took this as an invitation to kiss my neck again, and this time, he ran his tongue along my sweating skin, moving slowly to spite me. He paused to whisper two words in my ear and I quickly opened my eyes.   
"Je t'aime."  
I definitely liked the French language.  
I reached out in an attempt to take Levi's jeans off but he caught my hand, pinning it down by my side.  
"All I want you to do," He said in a low voice, "is lie down."  
"Am I allowed to make any noise?" I asked nervously, knowing I probably would anyway, whether or not either of us wanted me to.   
Thankfully he gave me a small smile, almost unnoticeable, and perhaps I wouldn't have seen it had I not been as close to him as I was. "If you have to."  
I was occupied by willing my face to be less red, and I hardly even noticed when a pair of rough yet delicate hands took my boxers off. One of those hands ran lightly along my thigh, and I couldn't help but swear loudly as Levi wrapped his fingers around my cock.  
In fact, the exact word I chose was, "Fuck."  
His hand was loose, and he moved it slowly, continuing to tease me. He enjoyed having control and anyway, I was completely fine with being underneath him.  
He kissed my lips once again, his tongue moving against my own as I moaned into his mouth, and as he tightened his grip on my dick, I became louder. I was completely helpless, and later on I'd be embarrassed about it, but right then I didn't give a shit.  
My hand found its way to Levi's shoulder and I managed to momentarily push him away, only far enough to separate our mouths.  
"Faster," I managed to gasp between quick breaths.  
"Ask politely and maybe I'll consider it," He replied.  
"Faster, Levi, please," I begged, and any effort I was still making to be relatively quiet became useless. He started to rub my dick quicker than before, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, but it wasn't enough. I moved my hand to his back and dug my nails into his skin. It didn't seem to hurt him. If anything, he seemed to like it. I was partly amazed that Levi liked anything at all.   
He bit down on my neck again, hard, and I thought about how I'd have a bruise there by the next morning but, holy shit, it was worth it. Then he rubbed his thumb over the tip of my dick and my breath caught in my throat.  
We were both sweating. I was making noises I couldn't remember making for a long time, and Levi was taking sharp breaths as he rubbed my cock as quickly as he could.  
We both finally got a chance to breathe when I came, liquid spilling and my heart pounding against my chest. My throat felt raw. Levi lay next to me, breathing as heavily as I was.  
"Fucking hell," I breathed.  
"Fucking hell?" He repeated. "I give you a handjob and all you can say is fucking hell?"  
"I can't say much else," I said slowly. After a few more deep breaths I managed, "I'll clean up."  
"Oh, I know you will." He laced his fingers between mine. "But not yet."  
"What?"  
"Just stay here." I looked over at Levi and he smiled properly for the first time since we'd met.  
After that day, yet another routine began. I said goodbye as I left and hello as I came back, and sometimes Levi even said these things back. I read and he wrote; occasionally I even read what he wrote. His writing stressed him out so sometimes I managed to drag him out of the apartment. I suggested that he turned one of the bedrooms into room just for writing.  
"Are you suggesting that I sleep in the same bed as you every night, brat?" He asked, raising an eyebrow as I shared my idea.  
I nodded.   
"And you expect me to be able to keep my hands off you every night?"  
I shook my head.  
True to this response, I ended up naked, sweating and begging and moaning and under Levi, almost every night.  
I definitely considered that a good thing.   



End file.
